This year’s annual Bugle poetry contest attracted various poems with a few reflecting on longevity and perseverance.

Besides our three winning poems of this month’s Bugle, here is one additional poem: 

Getting Up There

Gail Peterson

I was young for 80 years,

But I’m growing old fast now.

I can see it in my sallow face,

In my lined and wrinkled brow.

I see it in my craggy hands,

My knobby knees and feet.

I hear it when my voice runs dry.

And I need a bib now when I eat!!

I stand up slow from sitting down,

Then tend to shuffle when I walk.

I blank on names I used to know,

And on words I need to talk.

I forget, sometimes, what day it is,

Or the month, or the time of year.

I need to jot down memory aids,

So keep a pen and Post-Its near.

Can’t work as hard as I once could;

I get so doggone tuckered out,

I have to go back in and take a nap,

Or have a long timeout.

Don’t care that much to drive the car.

I hate to take long trips.

I’d rather stay home and watch TV,

And eat potato chips.

I read the paper every day,

Check the names in the obits.

Now and then, I see a friend’s;

So far, mine’s not made that list.

But it will someday, as indeed it must,

That much is sure enough.

But ’til it does, guess I’ll go on just

Lovin’ life and hangin’ tough.